The Last Goodbye
by BananaaPumpkin
Summary: Arianna Kingsley is selected as a District 11 tribute, reluctantly leaving her struggling mother and autistic brother behind at home. She has to make it out alive, but the odds are against her. Twenty-four go in, only one comes out.
1. The Reaping

I knew this day would come.

I dress myself reluctantly in the grey-blue pinafore dress that lay on my bed in front of me. It was itchy and uncomfortable, made of harsh thread and cloth. I looked in the mirror, my tired, expressionless face reflected back at me. I plaited my long blonde-brown curly hair behind my back, and pulled my fringe down at the front on my forehead.

My mother came up to my bedroom, and looked at me and gave a sigh. She tied the tie on my dress around my back, and put the strays from my plait back in place. She shook her head and made a sound of exasperation as she clipped back my fringe. I scowled as she walked towards the door, smiling at me ruefully. As she walked out, I turned back to the mirror; I pulled my clip out and threw it back out of my hair. I looked at myself. I had been counting down to this day for 365 days. I never thought it would come so quickly. It was the day of the reaping.

I looked around my room, as this may be the last time I ever see it again. I closed the door on it, shutting away so many memories. I walked downstairs, looking at my mother and my brother as I came into the kitchen. My mother was sewing some cloth on the kitchen table, and my brother was watching the television. My brother has learning and speaking disorder, and he has no idea what today is. It kills me inside not to be able to tell him, not being able to explain that this is the last time that I will possibly see him.

I look at my mother. I can see it in her eyes and the expressions in her face that it pains her too to watch me go. She gets up from the table and comes over to me, putting her hands on my shoulders. We don't have to say anything to each other because we both know what will happen and what we both want to say.

"Mum.." I manage to say, my voice croaky. "..Mum, I'm scared."

She takes my face in her hands. "I know, darling. I know.." She strokes my left cheek with her thumb and looks at me solemnly with her tired blue eyes. Tears form in my eyes, and I pushed them back, because I know one of us has to be strong, even though I feel like breaking down and crying my eyes out. I hug her, and she pulls me close.

I break away from her, reluctant to let go. I can't even bring myself to say goodbye to my brother, it would break my heart. I look at him as I leave the house, and he looks at me with confusion in his eyes.

"Bye, Seb.' I say, my voice breaking on the sound of his name.  
"Bye-bye, Ri!" He says, getting up. He runs over to me, and locks me in a tight bear hug. "See you later!" He tells me. It takes all my strength to keep myself from crying and telling him that I probably won't see him ever again.  
"Yeah, see you tomorrow, Seb." I lie, for his own safety.  
He releases his tight grip and smiles at me. I open the door, and as I look behind me, I see my mother's tear-streaked face and my brother's smiling face.

I leave the house, walking steadily to the village square of District 11, an agricultural village. That was where the reaping in our District was held. I followed the other children to the square in a silent line, keeping my head down to escape looks from the other children.

There was a queue outside the square where numerous Peacekeepers were taking blood samples from us all. I didn't like the idea of this, but I had no choice when the woman stuck some sort of device into the top of my finger, and cut the top, pressing my finger down on the paper in front of me, leaving a blood-print of my finger on the paper under my name in a box. I gave her a look of disgust as I walked past her and into the square.

I was sorted into the right side of the square with all the females. I looked at them all around me with tense and worried faces. Their names had only been put in a couple of times into the bowl. My name, however, had been put in 52 times. My family didn't have much money, and so I had to sign up for Tesserae. Signing up for Tesserae meant that my name was put in more than once into the reaping. Being 16, I was able to sign up for monthly provisions, and have been ever since the age of 12 to feed my family and keep them alive. I had scraped past the reaping every year, but since my mother had lost her job working at the bakery earlier this year, food was scarce in the house, and I was the only one who could look after them and provide them with food. My mother had found a job in the orchards, only a small job, with not a lot of pay. In my 16th year, I had to get Tesserae five months this year to keep us going. My mother tried to stop me from getting Tesserae, keeping me from going into the Games, but I had a job to keep them safe and healthy as I could, and there wasn't any other way.

I felt the atmosphere in the square change as the pink alien life-form known as Effie Trinket strutted onto the stage. I looked her up and down; with her pink candyfloss hair and matching glitter-lined suit making her look like an overdressed poodle.

"Welcome, welcome, to another Hunger Games!" She said, beaming around, expecting applause, but getting only silence and expressionless faces staring up at her. With a look of shock and disappointment, she carried on. "As you know, two tributes will be entered into the Games. Let's see who will be the two lucky tributes! Ladies first!" Effie walked over to the big glass bowl labelled 'Girls' to her right. The group of girls got tense as she waved her hand around in the bowl. She looked out into the crowd with a grin.

_Please, please, don't pick me, _I thought.

Her hand snatched up a small white envelope. All the females around me took a breath in. She came back to the middle of the stage where she was previously standing. Effie smiled a cheesy grin at us all and unfolded the envelope.

My eyes were shut tight; my hands were scrunched up in fists, hoping somehow that somebody else would be chosen instead of me. My moth had gone dry. My palms were sweating. I couldn't go. I couldn't leave my family behind with no food. I couldn't leave my mother. I couldn't leave my brother. I had to be with them. I had to be with my brother, I had to be with him, he wouldn't understand if I left and never came back. I said I would. I promised him. I loved him. I-

"-Arianna Kingsley!"


	2. Saying Goodbye

Effie Trinket's shrill voice ringed in my head, my name repeated over and over again inside my mind. This couldn't be happening. I couldn't be a tribute. Not now, not ever. I had my mother and Seb to look after – there was no way I could leave them to look after themselves at home. They would starve to death, I can only just keep us all going by signing up for Tesserae, but now going into the arena, they'd have no supporting provisions. I looked up from the ground, the world swimming around me. I saw that the children around me had made a circle around me to single me out, sending me to my death. People were murmuring words I couldn't make out, whispering to one another. My hearing and sense of sight had given up on me. The stage swam in front of me, Effie a blur of pink. I slowly walked forward, feeling the eyes of many people upon me, escaping their gazes by looking at the floor as I walked up to the stage.

Effie Trinket ran over to me excitedly and gripped my shoulders tightly as soon as I stepped onto the stage. "We have our District 11 female tribute!" She squealed.

Everyone stared at me, their eyes looking me up and down. I felt dizzy, this could not be happening. I couldn't leave my family behind. Someone had to take my place. I looked around at my friends, their eyes full of sorrow, but not one stepped out of line to take my place in the Games. She loosened her grip on me. I staggered a bit, without the support. "Now for the boys!" Effie walked over to the left bowl marked 'Boys'. She looked curiously into the bowl, and took out another white envelope. She opened it in a flourish, and spoke out to the audience, "Stan Anderson!"

A circle formed around Stan. I nearly screamed in shock. I wanted to run to him, to tell him to run away from here with me. I saw by the expression on his face that he didn't want to go as much as I did. Stan was one of my best friends. We had grown up together since we were two years old. We could never be separated. And we were both going to die together.

He looked at me with his deep green eyes, the same colour as mine. The look on his face told me that he was thinking exactly what I was thinking. I felt helpless and just shook my head in disbelief as he strode up towards the stage, and stood at the other side of Effie. I wanted to reach out to him, and tell him that it was all going to be alright, even though we both knew that it wasn't. District 11 had never had a tribute that has won the Hunger Games – the Victors Village is empty.

"We have both our District 11 tributes!" Effie yelled, grabbing both our hands and holding them up in the air. Some members of the audience gave a feeble clap as we were pushed by guards into an area behind the stage.

* * *

I was shut into a room, with a desk and some bookshelves. I looked around me, and I tried to open the door, but it was locked from the other side. I leaned on the desk behind me, throwing my head into my hands. This was all going too fast, I'm a tribute and now I'm going to die with my best friend in the Hunger Games.

The door flew open, and my mother and my brother came running in. She flew her arms around me, weeping. I felt like crumbling into her arms, telling her that I was going to die, but I couldn't cry. Not in front of Seb or my mother. He just looked at me, like he somehow knew what was going on. His eyes were full of sadness – obviously my mother had explained to him that I was leaving and never coming back.

My mother took my face in her hands. "Arianna Kingsley. My only daughter. Please, _please_, come back to us!" She was sobbing now. "We need you! You can't leave us! Please-"

I grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. "Mum, listen to me!" She continued crying. "Mum! Listen to me!" I shook her, trying to knock her out of this hysteria. She looked at me, quietening down. "I'll be coming home. I promise. You need to keep working at the orchard to pay for food for you both. There is still some Tesserae left from last month. You need to use it sparingly. Do you understand?"

She whimpered in my arms, and nodded.

I walked over to my brother, who looked at me solemnly. His dark brown eyes scanned my face, sensing my fear. "Seb, I have to go. I won't be back for a long time. I'll be alright, but you mustn't worry. Everything's going to be fine. Okay?"

He looked at me, a tear falling silently down his cheek. He was trying to be strong like me, trying to believe in what I was saying, even though I was never going to see him again. I wiped it with my sleeve, trying not to cry. Guards burst into the room, grabbing my mother and my brother. "Time's up." They said, pulling them away.

Seb held onto me, hugging me tight. He was crying now; tear after tear escaping his eyes. "Seb! I love you! Look after Mum! It's-"

The door slammed.

"It's going to be alright." I whispered. I imagined his face, crumpled up, clawing, struggling to try to get back to me. I wanted to run after him, but the door had been locked. I fell into a crying heap in front of the door, letting out all the withheld tears. I thought of my mother and Seb being dragged away, never seeing me again. I wanted my mother and Seb with me. I felt so alone without them. I let the tears roll down my cheeks as I sobbed into my scrunched-up shaking body.


	3. The Train Journey

I got dragged out from the room by the guards that took away my mother and Seb, and was pulled along series of corridors. I tried to resist their grip on my wrists, shouting at them to let me go, but they continued walking, not listening to me or loosening their grip on me. I was thrown into a big black car, and someone else was thrown in beside me. I looked up to find that it was Stan, who was already looking at me with wide eyes. My lips were just forming his name when Effie came into the car and sat between us, separating us once again.

I looked out of the window, wanting to talk to Stan so much. I knew he was going through the same as me, he would understand what I'm going through. He has a brother and two sisters at home, he must be feeling worse than me. Leaving them all behind must be agony. I glanced over at him, ignoring Effie's effort of conversation. He turned his head to look at me, and managed a small smile. I felt the ends of my mouth turn up slightly, but that was all I could manage.

I blocked out Effie's high pitched rant as she bragged about the Capitol with all the leather interior and golden furnishings and chandeliers with crystals. She wasn't lying. When we were forced out of the car and onto a train, the things that Effie was talking about was all right here in front of us. Silver platters lined with fresh fruit, several chocolate-covered desserts, and rich Victoria sponges. To live like this every day must be a luxury, having food being brought to you when you wished, having as much food as you wanted, to never have to worry about money or shortage of food.

"You _have_ to try the chocolate-covered strawberries – they are a Capitol delicacy!" Effie smiled, and clicked her fingers to signal a waiter to hold out a plate topped with the strawberries to us. I took one graciously, as did Stan, and we both bit into them hungrily. Effie was right – they were delicious. I was just about to grab another, when Effie moved us into another compartment along the train, and sat us down in some plush chairs. I felt the leather with my hands, never having felt such wonderful material.

"I'll be back in a minute, I just need to pop off and find Liger." Effie smiled, and strutted off down the train. "And don't eat any more of those strawberries; otherwise you'll have no room for dinner!" She shouted behind her, happily giggling to herself, and shut the cabin door behind her. It was just me and Stan in the room, alone together for the first time since the reaping.

He looked at me, giving me a small smile to reassure me. I looked into his eyes, for a moment, trying to be strong like he was, but I couldn't find the will. Effie came back, striding through the doorway, and Stan pulled his gaze from mine. Following close behind her was a well-groomed man, with floppy dark hair. He nodded at us, and sat down opposite us next to Effie.

"This is Liger." Effie smiled, placing her hand on Liger's shoulder. He didn't look at all happy about this gesture, and stiffened his body uncomfortably. "He's going to be your mentor."

I looked at him, his black eyes scanning me and Stan carefully. I examined his face closely, and I realised that there was a faint scar running across his eye and diagonally across down to the left side of his lips.

He saw me looking at his scar and I looked away nervously, not wanting to get on the wrong side of him on the first day.

"Congratulations to you both." Liger said with a grunt.

'Congratulations'? For what, for walking to our deaths? Congratulations for being picked against our will to kill others and fight to the death? Congratulations for leaving our starving families back at home whilst we sit here in leather chairs with all we could eat? I see no need for jubilations here.

"Dinner is ready." Effie said to us. "If you'll follow me through here.." She led the way through the door and into another carriage. It was a large compartment, with a long, red rug with golden tassels in the corners. There was a long, wide table, covered by a pearl-white embroidered silk tablecloth already set with vases of flowers and silver plates and crystal wine glasses. We were guided to our seats by waiters and were served dishes upon dishes of meals such as chicken and turkey, something we have never been able to think about eating, and here it was in front of me I felt guilty for my family and the other families in District 11. There was a hollow pit in my stomach which was aching with hunger, and despite my feelings of guilt, I ate. Stan and I piled our plates high whilst we listened to Liger talk about training.

"Training starts tomorrow, 11.20 am sharp in the Training Centre." Said Liger. "The other 22 tributes will be there also. Your first instinct is to show yourself off to the other tributes. Don't."

"Why not?" Stan asked.

He gave a sigh. "Showing yourself off in front of the other tributes shows your skills and weaknesses, and gives them an advantage in the arena. You will have plenty of time to show your strengths when you have your training in front of the Gamemakers alone." Liger explained, stuffing his mouth with a fork-full of turkey, as though he didn't want to talk to us. We carried on eating in silence, until Effie struck up conversation.

"You two will just _love_ Angie! She's the head make-up artist! Oh! And Kija is just amazing! You two are going to look just absolutely fabulous for the Tribute Parade tomorrow!" She clapped her hands in exasperation. "Now, go and get yourselves changed and get into bed – you've got lots of work that needs to be done tomorrow!" Effie hurried us out of our seats without asking us if we were finished, and led us to our bedrooms.

"Now," Effie looked at us both. "Your bedtime clothes are in the wardrobe, and bed by ten o' clock – you're both going to the Remake Room tomorrow, so you need your sleep!" She smiled, and left us outside our bedroom doors.

"Well.." I said, turning to Stan awkwardly. "Night."

He looked at me, with sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, night."

I turned the golden doorknob to my extremely large bedroom, at least ten times larger than my bedroom back in District 11. I stood there for several moments, taking it all in. I closed the door behind me, and walked in. I trailed my fingertips along the edge of the bed, the silk smooth against them. I changed into my silk nightgown and climbed tiredly into bed, letting myself fall into sleep, escaping the world I no longer wished to live in.


	4. Something's Not Right

I was woken up to the sound of people talking in the other room. I had completely forgotten where I was as I sat up, and when I looked at my luxurious surroundings, I remembered that I was here.

For the Hunger Games.

I slipped out of bed, and pulled a emerald green dressing gown over me. We had nothing like this back in District 11, only leather and cloth clothing was the best we could get. I walked over to the door, and turned the doorknob to open the door, to see a small group of people talking very quickly by the dining room table. I walked out, and as soon as they saw me, they stopped speaking altogether, and looked rather startled, as if they had been talking about me, something that I shouldn't know, something secret.

I looked at them confused, but before I could ask them what was going on, Effie ran over to me.

"Arianna!" She giggled, placing a firm grip on my shoulders. "Go and have breakfast, and then it's time to get ready for the Tribute Parade! Oh, it's going to be fabulous!"

She hurried me along into another room where breakfast was being served.

"I'll be back in just a moment with the prep team!" Effie smiled, and walked off back through the door to join the group who she was previously talking to. She shut the door behind her. Stan was already sat down, eating a slice of toast. He looked at me worryingly as I sat down and took a slice of toast for myself.

"How did you sleep?" Stan said, as I scraped butter over the bread.

I looked up at him. His eyes eyed me anxiously, like he knew that something wasn't right.

"Fine," I replied. "How did you sleep?"

He shrugged. "Not bad. They keep saying that it's the Tribute Parade today. And that there's some sort of prep team."

"Yeah, Effie mentioned that," I said, biting off a mouthful of toast. I swallowed it before carrying on the conversation. "There was a group of people outside who were talking about something. Something that seemed important. So important that when they noticed that I was there, they just stopped talking. Something we're not meant to know."

Stan looked at me curiously. "I saw them this morning, I only heard a few words before they realised that I was watching them. Words like 'Tributes', and 'older'.. I didn't catch enough of the conversation to try and work out what they were saying. I'm sure it's nothing."

We carried on the rest of our breakfast in silence. I knew Stan knew that something was up, it wasn't nothing. Something wasn't right.

* * *

Once breakfast was finished, we were hurried by Effie to our rooms to get changed. The clothes that we were ordered to wear was just a plain white t-shirt and white trousers, which lay on the bed ready. Just as I had slipped on my trousers, Effie walked in without a knock, and pushed me back out into the dining room, where Stan was already waiting, wearing the same white garments as me.

"Now that you two are ready, you'll be taken down to the prep level. Stan, you will be with Kija, and Arianna, you will be with Angie. Oh, it's going to be a marvellous Parade!"

And without another word or an explanation, she took us both by the shoulders and led us to the elevator. She pushed us in, and smiled as the door closed on her, giving a little wave. As the elevator was going down, I noticed that there were two men in the elevator with us, and I guessed that they must be working for the Capitol, from the important clothing that they wore. They took no notice of me, and stayed silent. Once the elevator had come to a stop, the doors opened and we were now in a bright white room, filled with people running about in white clothing. The brightness of it all hurt my eyes, as we were ushered along by the two men, who looked completely out of place in their red suits.

We were taken to two people, a man and a woman, and I guessed that they were Angie and Kija, our prep team. They nodded to the men and they walked off back towards the elevator.

"It's very nice to meet you both," Angie started, with a wide grin, which took up nearly half of her face. She wore lashings of red lipstick, and had very pale skin and her red-stained hair was in a tight bun. Her skin was inked with red flowers like tattoos, and she wore a white coat, like a scientist. She held out her hand, first to Stan, who shook it lightly, and then to me, and I hesitate for a moment before shaking it too. I had not got on very well with anyone in the Capitol yet, and so I was very hesitant towards them both.

"We're your prep team," Kija said, clapping his hands together. Kija wore the same coat as Angie, and as I looked around, so did everyone in this room. His eyes were an emerald green, and his skin was dark. His hair was black and stuck upright, with dark green strips mixed between them. He had no skin decoration, just a green dragon piercing through his left ear. "I'll be in charge of Stan today, and Angie will be with Arianna. We'll just be cleaning you both up for the Tribute Parade today, just little things like your nails, hair, eyebrows, and just minor things like that. Is that alright?" He asked us, giving us a smile.

We both nodded. I decided that I liked Kija more than Angie; I would have much preferred to have him in charge of me than her.

"We want you both to look your best for the Parade! Later on, you'll be passed onto the design team, Jason and Darren who will take care of your outfits for the Parade. But first.." She stopped as she inspected my face, touching my eyebrows and my chin. "..Aspects of you will need to be sorted out.." She gave me a little giggle as she saw me looking at her with an angry expression.

"Right," Kija said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Let's get started! Stan, if you'll come with me.." He led Stan off towards the left side of the room, and as he left, Stan looked back at me and gave me a little wave.

Angie smiled and led me off towards the right side of the room, and stopped me by a room. She inserted several numbers into a device on the wall, and the door unlocked. She waited for me to enter the room before coming in herself.

The room contained many devices; a bath, a shower, a sink, a bed and a couple of chairs. The walls were lined with mirrors, so you could see yourself at every angle. Angie led me to the bath first.

"Right," Angie said. "Shall we get started?"


	5. The Hairdressing Team

"So," Angie started. "If you could get in the bath, there are some body lotions by the side there. I'll be back in just a moment to do your hair. Just get yourself washed, and I'll be back in a second!"

She giggled as she left the room, closing the door on me, leaving me in the room by myself. I took off my hideous white clothes and slipped into the bath. It was relaxing to have a nice warm bath after being in District 11 for so long, having to have cold baths all of the time. Having hot water seemed rather unusual. I found some bath lotion labelled 'Strawberry Cream' and decided that it sounded nice enough, before rubbing it over my body. A strawberry aroma filled the air.

I had just finished washing the lotion off when Angie came back into the room, with several bottles in her hands. She smiled at me as she put the bottles down on a table and pulled a stool over to the head of the bath where my head was.

"Now," Angie said, getting the shower head from her side. "I'm just going to wash your hair, shampoo and condition it, and then I'm going to put some mousse in it to keep it's volume for the Parade. Once it's dry later, I'll take you over to the hairdressing team, who will see what they can do with your hair, OK?"

"Yeah, that's fine," I said, warming to her a little bit. "Who are the hairdressing team?"

"Oh, that's Maxwell, Lily and Petunia. They're absolutely lovely! They work wonders with the Tributes' hair, they'll love yours - it's so thick!" She laughed and began to wet my hair.

I smiled, and thought that Angie wasn't actually that bad.

...

Once she had finished running the shampoo, conditioner, mousse and all the lotions and potions that she had brought in with her, she helped me out of the bath, and wrapped a towel around me. She took me over to a chair, and sat me down.

"Now, I'm just going to shape your eyebrows," Said Angie, pulling out a pair of tweezers from her coat pocket. "Firstly I'm just going to pluck some of the strays, and then we'll get onto the waxing."

She turned on a bright light that shone above my head, and started to get to work on my eyebrows. I had never had my eyebrows plucked before, and when she pulled out one of the hairs, it was rather painful. Every time she pulled one out, I winced, tears forming in my eyes, partly also that there was an extremely bright light shining in my face, which wasn't helping at all.

When she was eventually done with the plucking, she moved me over to the bed and got me to lie down. As I lay down on the bed, she opened a pot of what seemed to be a very hot liquid. Wax.

Now, I had never had anything waxed either, and when I said that the plucking was painful, the waxing was ten times worse. It was excruciatingly painful. However much I tried not to cry, I couldn't help it. Angie saw that it was painful, and got some ice and aloe vera to ease the pain.

"I'm sorry it's so painful," Angie said, dabbing the aloe vera on my eyebrows. "The waxing part is over now. We'll just shave you're legs and your under-arms if you'd like, if you'd rather not go through the pain."

I nodded gratefully. She gave me the ice to put on my eyebrows as she shaved my legs and my under arms for me. Angie then took me over to a table and some chairs.

"I'm going to shape up your nails, and then you'll be passed over to the hairdressing team, alright?" She asked me.

I nodded, and watched her perfect my dirty and bitten nails for me. She tutted once or twice and shook her head when she saw that I had bitten them, and I looked away, embarrassed. I wondered what our outfits would look like for the Parade. Every year, the Tributes' outfits are something to do with their district, and District 11 is an agricultural village, where we farm cotton, wheat and crops. Most of our produce goes to the Capitol, and if any citizen of District 11 is caught eating any of the crops, they are whipped in public in front of everyone. I was distracted from my thoughts by Angie's voice.

"All done!" She smiled as I looked at my nails. They were so perfect; you wouldn't have even know that they were uneven and bitten once.

"Thank you." I said, smiling at her.

She took me by the shoulders and walked me through the door and back into the large white room, where I saw Stan being taken by Kija to another room. Angie led me to a group of three people, who I guessed to be Lily, Petunia and Maxwell. They smiled at me when they saw me with Angie.

"Hello, Arianna," One of the women said. I didn't know whether she was Petunia or Lily. "I'm Lily, and this is Petunia and Maxwell." She said, pointing to both of them in turn. They held out their hands to me and I shook them both, giving them a smile.

Lily had orange hair, and like Angie, she had orange flowers inked on her skin. Her nails were orange as well, and she wore a white coat over an orange t-shirt. Maxwell had red hair, spiked up like Kija's, but it was a lighter shade of brown. The tips of his hair were red, and he wore red lipstick to match his hair. His skin was fair, as was Petunia's, whose hair was a very bright pink, as was her lipstick and eyelashes, which were very long and very pink.

"We're your hairdressing team!" Maxwell said, with a large grin. "Let's get started! Ooh, this is always so much fun!"

"Thanks Angie!" I called to her, as I was hurried away into another room by my hairdressing team. She waved to me as I was ushered around a corner, and into another room.

The three of them sat me down in a white leather chair, and draped a white cover over me. They started to look at my hair, whispering to themselves about what to do with it all. They took bits of it, twisting and pulling strands until I felt like one of those hairdressing dolls for children. Finally, after a long chat, they looked as if they had come to a conclusion about my hair. Nonetheless, they didn't tell me anything about it at all, and just started to get to work on it, leaving me sat there with raised eyebrows, as I saw them in the mirror taking out all kinds of tools from their jackets. Scissors and brushes were taken out, curlers, dyes, and everything you could think of was out in a matter of seconds.

Maxwell was in charge of the cutting and trimming, and I saw him shake his head at my numerous split ends – in District 11, we don't have professional hairdressers, and so we have to make do with our mothers and their wonky cuts. Whatever state my hair was in, Maxwell somehow managed to transform it and make it as even and as straight as I had ever seen it. When he stepped back from his masterpiece, he simply gave me a smile, and took out a mirror to show me the back of my head.

There were vines and leaves weaved into my hair, twisting and curling down. There were leaves sprouting from them, a vibrant green. My hair had been curled and it fell past my shoulders, and the twirling vines were weaved into here too. It was wonderful.

"It's so wonderful.." I said, looking at my hair in astonishment. "Thank you.." I felt the weaving vines and leaves – they were so real and life like, I thought of home, realising just how much I missed it. Mother and Seb, at home, the log fire, the warmth of having my family around me. Watching me, fighting others for survival. Their hearts beating fast, wishing upon every last piece of hope for me to come back home.


	6. The Design Room'

I was escorted to my next team – the makeup team. Of course, the team themselves were covered in all kinds of make-up. We greeted one another as I arrived, and I was sat down in yet another white chair. Again, I was dressed in the hideous white clothing, and all the brightness of it was starting to give me a headache.

This time it was a team of two, but they had no intention of introducing themselves to me at the slightest. They just sat me down in the chair and got on with their job, no hello, no shake of the hand, nothing. Everyone else had been so nice today; it seemed a shame that they did not make an effort.

The crowded the front of me, making me a little claustrophobic. As they started to work on my face, I saw by their nametags that they were called Symphanie and Marcus. Symphanie had blonde hair, which was streaked with light blue highlights. Her lips were the same colour, as were her eyes, which I noticed were a very bright shade of blue. The Capitol, I had realised, that they are all dressed like this, in bright colours with designs drawn onto their skin, and everything matching. I couldn't understand why they did it, they looked like a bunch of clowns in a circus. Marcus's hair was in a quiff, and dark purple streaks ran through it. I noticed some delicate designs on the outside of his eyes, and on his neck.

For the whole time that I was there, they did not speak one single word to me. I felt like saying something, but I didn't want to embarrass myself if they didn't say anything back.

They used everything in their toolkits to help me look good. Brushes, mascara, eyeliner, lipstick, lip gloss, blusher, eye shadow, and everything that you could think of was applied to my face. Once they were done, I felt like they had turned me into one of them, with all of the makeup that they had applied to me. They showed me the reflection of my face in a mirror, and I had to lean in closer to it to process the change.

It didn't even look like me anymore. They had perfectly brushed foundation and blusher onto my face and cheeks, making me seem like a normal girl, a girl with no hurt and no grief. They had applied rouge lipstick to my lips, bringing out the rosiness of the cheeks. I looked so plain and simple, not a girl that used to live in one of the poorest districts.

I didn't want to move my face, just in case I ruined anything, so I just said a quick "Thank you," to them both, and they nodded without any expression. Angie came into the room that we were in and stopped as she entered through the door in shock.

"Arianna! You look beautiful!" She said, running over to me with her hands held out. "Marcus and Symphanie did such a good job! You've got one more place to go, come on!"

She thanked them both for their help, and she led me over to yet another room, which I noticed was called 'The Design Room'. Angie knocked on the door and walked in to a room with no-one in it. She put her hands on her hips, frustrated.

"Where are they?" She said under her breath before turning towards me. "I'll just go and find Jason and Darren.. where have those two got to?" She strutted out the room and closed the door behind me.

I looked around the room, examining all of the mannequins, fabrics and designing books. I walked over to the table where all of the fabrics were piled up, and I felt each one individually. They were soft material, nothing like we would find at our district back home.

I caught sight of a thick pad on the table next to the fabric, and checked that no-one was watching me in the doorway before I opened the pad. Inside there were hundreds and hundreds of doodles and sketches of dresses and outfits. There were so many colours and fabric cut out samples. I scanned through a few pages, looking at them in awe. I was about to turn over the next page when I caught a glimpse of my name above a couple of sketches on the page. I looked at the sketches, leaves and trees drawn and sketched everywhere. I then looked at the outfit for the Parade. It was a sketch of a green dress, which was weaved with the same leaves and vines that I had in my hair. I felt the fabric sample between my fingers – it was very soft. My hair was not tied up, just like how the hairdressing team had prepared it, and I wore green shoes covered with leaves.

I heard the door open suddenly, and jumped back from the sketchbook. I looked at the two men, shocked.

"I didn't mean to- I was only l-looking.. I-" I stuttered, my face flushed and red.

They laughed as they walked into the room. "It's fine," Said one of them. He had fair skin, black curly hair, and dark brown eyes. He wore a white shirt, and light brown skinny trousers. The other man had smoothed-down blonde-brown hair, and had a slight stubble on his chin and jaw line. He also wore a white shirt, but wore black trousers. Neither of them were coloured from head to toe in colours and decorations, but were just normal, just like normal people.

"Are you Jason and Darren?" I asked them, not sure which one was which.

They laughed again. "Sorry, yes, we are. I'm Darren, and this is Jason. It's very nice to meet you." Darren flashed a cheeky smile and I shook both of their hands. I felt a lot more comfortable around them than I did with the other teams of people.

"We're going to be doing your outfit for the Parade," Said Jason, clapping his hands together in excitement. "It's going to be absolutely fabulous this year!" He gave a little squeal of joy as he rifled though the piles of sketchpads that I was previously looking through.

"I loved the design." I said, as I saw him come to the page with my design on it.

Jason turned to smile at me. "Thank you. It was partly Darren's design too. We thought it would relate to your district."

Our district was based on farming and gathering from the fields. They had taken our country life and had put it into an outfit.

"We're glad you like it," Said Darren. "You're going to look gorgeous for the Parade!" He walked over to Jason and they started to discuss something between them. I stood there awkwardly, looking around the room at the sketches on the wall.

"Shall we get you into the dress?" Said Jason, walking over to a large wardrobe. I nodded, and was helped out of my disgusting white garments and into the green dress that I had seen before. They helped me slip it over my head, before slipping on the shoes. They turned me towards the mirror, and I couldn't believe it.

The dress looked exactly the same as the sketch that I had seen in the sketchbook. It was so unusual to see it on me from seeing it in the book. I twirled around in it, smiling. It made me think of home.

"Do you like it?" Asked Darren.

I was lost for words. "I- I.. I love it.."

They both smiled, and as I twirled around again, I saw Stan's reflection in the mirror. He was standing in the doorway, dressed with the leaves like me. He had a leaf crown on around his head, twisted with the vines. He was topless, with the leaf decorations painted onto his body. The trousers that he wore were cargo green, yet again twisted with the leaves and vines.

He held out a hand to me. "You ready for the Parade?"


	7. The Parade

We were taken to a large room, swarming with people. Liger was there to escort us to our stations, where we would have last minute preparations done to us, and shown to our chariot for the parade. I saw people from the Capitol, their faces streaked with makeup and different colours, and they were all running about the room, arms filled with make-up, hairspray and other cans of god-knows-what. The room was filled with a buzz, everyone talking in hushed voices to one another. I looked around, and saw many others like us, dressed extravagantly, and having last minute make-up applied to their faces. They must be the other tributes. There was something about them that made them seem different to Stan and myself. They looked taller. And older.

"Don't look at them," I hear Liger's voice say through gritted teeth. "It will make you look weak, an easy target. Don't make eye contact."

I took his advice and looked forward as I walked along, keeping my eyes focused on what was only in front of me. I held my head high, sticking my chin out a little, to show that I wasn't weak or scared. If the other tributes thought I was weak, they'd make a beeline for me first in the arena. I took no notice of them, and was escorted by Liger to a station that had a sign that read 'District 11' on it. Stan and I were seen to, our hair fixed with endless amounts of hairspray, our clothes straightened out, and out make-up perfected. I felt like a doll when everyone was operating on me.

A big gong-like sound rang throughout the room, making me jump.

"It's time for the Parade!" Effie squealed, yanking my arm, taking me down a long corridor, and into another large room, except this room was filled with chariots. She pushed me and Stan onto the chariot that was labelled 'District 11' and shut the door of it. Our chariot was covered in leaves and vines that snaked around it, matching our costumes that we were wearing.

"Now remember!" She said, shouting to us above the loud talking. "Smiles, please! You need to hide the fact that you're both scared! Show us that you can take on the Hunger Games! Make your district proud! Good luck!" She laughed, and bustled away from sight.

"How are we supposed to look happy and excited when we're being forced into fighting to our own deaths?" Stan said, looking at me with a grave expression.

I shrugged, looking at all of the other tributes who were clambering into their own chariots. "Stan, look at the tributes." He looked at them, and then back to me.

"What about them?" He said, giving me a quizzical look.

"Is it just me, or do they look a lot older than us?" I said, studying them all, one by one. Many of the men were extremely well-built, their bulging muscles showing through their costumes. They had to be at least 6" 7 or something ridiculous. And the women were much taller than me, and I'm what, 5" 6? We'll, everyone's pretty much taller than me, but that's not the point. The point is, is that they look much older than Stan and I, even twice our age.

Stan was just about to answer, but the gong-like noise was sounded again. The chariots, led by black horses, started to move, and were waiting in a line. A faint trumpet sound was played, and a roar from a large crowd could be heard.

The Parade had started.

There was some muffled speech that I could not make out, and another cheer from the crowd was heard. Then, all of a sudden, the doors that led out into the parade arena were opened, and the sound of the audience was so loud, I couldn't hear a thing. The District 1 tributes were pulled away out of the room by their horses, and down the runway outside. A big booming voice shouted out their names, and commentated on their costumes as they rode down, the Capitol audience cheering as they went.

Districts 2, 3, 4, and 5 went one after the other, each getting loud cheers from the crowd. Then Districts 6, 7, and 8 were led off and down the runway, waving to the crowd, making a good impression of them. This is the first time that the Capitol will see us, so a good impression is very important. I remember Liger saying something to me about 'sponsors' and how people can sponsor you to help you out in the Games. I was taken from my thoughts as our chariot lurched forward, and the big booming voice spoke.

"_Here are our District 11 Tributes, Stan Anderson and Arianna Kingsley!"_

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a lump form in my throat. Stan noticed my uneasiness, and grabbed my hand, holding it tightly in his as we were led out by our horses. The light from the parade blinded me as we rode out, and the screams from the crowd rang through my head, my ear drums vibrating. I looked at the crowd, going crazy for us, waving flags, signs and all kinds of things in the air. I looked up to see mine and Stan's faces displayed on flying banners on the side. We looked amazing.

I had only just remembered about making a good impression and so I started to wave at the crowd, smiling, and getting a loud cheer from them as I did. Stan did the same, and threw our entwined hands up in the air, making the crowd go wild. I looked at him and smiled, and he did the same back, and I felt uplifted by the crowd's reaction and enthusiasm.

Our horses came to a slow halt at the end, turning to the right and entering yet another large room, filled with the previous tributes climbing out of their chariots. Effie and Liger ran over to us.

"That was amazing!" Effie giggled, helping me and Stan out of the chariot. She gave us both an unexpected hug.

"You did well," Liger said, placing his hands on both our shoulders. "You should have no trouble getting sponsors after that performance. But more is yet to come to prove yourselves. There is a training centre where you will train for three days, and will then have to perform your best to impress the Gamemakers. Training starts tomorrow at 10:00 am. Don't be late." And with that, Liger walked off, leaving Stan, Effie and I together. Effie turned to us.

"You did excellent today, the both of you," She said, smiling. "It is late, we should get you back for dinner and an early night in so you are well rested for tomorrow." Effie led us down back through all of the corridors we had previously walked through, and to the lift.

"I will be up soon; I need to have a word with Liger." She said, before pressing the button to go up. She stood outside the doors, and the doors closed in front of her. It was just Stan and I in the lift. We said nothing to each other, not sure what to say.

"How are you doing?" He finally spoke, breaking the silence between us in the lift.

I shrugged, not sure what to say. I felt tired, angry, sad, upset, confused, and worthless. I felt like an object more than I felt like a person. I felt used, used for entertainment, for people to laugh at. I felt like a puppet, made to entertain and perform. I was here against my will; I was here to kill others to save myself. I was forced to commit murder to other people. How could I do that? How is this entertaining? What is 'fun' about this? There is nothing.

"Used." I said to him, not making eye contact.

Stan put his arms around me and pulled me close, stoking my head. He must know how I felt; we were in the same situation. He was the only one I felt that I could trust.

"I know," He said, resting his head upon mine. "I know how you feel. I feel worthless, like we are just toys, being told what to do, and how to act all of the time."

I held him close, not wanting to let go. The ride up was long; there was at least a hundred floors. God-knows what they were all for. The Capitol could be seen from the window as we escalated upwards, the city far below us.

There was a 'ding' from the elevator, and as we came to a stop, the doors slid open to our room. There was no one here, just silence. I looked at the clock, it had gone past eight, and we were still in our costumes from the parade. I went to go and take a shower without a word, and undressed from the leafy dress.

I turned on the shower to cold, and stood there for a while, shivering as the cold water sprinkled over my body. It was somehow refreshing, but harsh to my skin. I sat down at the bottom of the shower, bringing my knees close to my chest, and sobbed.


End file.
